Chapter 4 I Can’t Make Friends
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
”You—you’re here?”
The voice came from above. It was a voice I had heard a lot this past year, and I felt a tired drop of dread.
I had been lifting water from the well behind the dojo. When I lifted my face from the bucket filled with well water, there he was, just as I had guessed: Cliff Griffith.
He had started following me whenever he had time since our joint match.
He kept acting rude like the voice said, and even though it had not been by my own will that I injured him in that match, it felt pointless when he stayed like this.
”…”
”What’s with that face? I brought sweet food again today, so eat it. Eat and fix that gloomy look of yours,” Cliff said.
I looked annoyed, and he did not even try to hide how sour he was. He glared at me so hard it made me a little afraid.
I could not stand it and slowly turned my face away toward the bucket full of water.
Really, why did he always bring expensive sweets for someone like me? Was it because his parents were high-ranking knights and had money?
”I think it’s better if you don’t try to be friends with me,” I said.
”Huh? Again with that? Don’t say that—fight me. I’ve given you sweets so many times, it’s about time.”
”…”
This was it. Ever since then, Cliff had been trying to make me fight. Was he still so upset that he had lost to me?
His voice had become quiet after saying some nonsense like, ‘My arms healed too fast! Sensation raring early man (Ahe face double peace).’ That strange phrase left him quiet, but that quietness was also scary.
”I told you many times, I will not fight.”
”Why? Is it because someone like me is not good enough for you?”
”That was… it was just a fluke…”
If the voice stayed quiet like that, I could not move like I did then, so even if we fought it would not help. That time, a voice had taken over and moved inside me—it was not me.
So even if he asked again, I could only move at my true, limited speed.
I had been an apprentice to Silver Blood from early on, but it had only been four years. My strength was still small.
…After that match, it seemed I had gained the skill called (Water God Style). That fact did not change how little I could do.
”…?”
I fell into thought about my own state and noticed Cliff, who was usually loud, had suddenly become quiet.
He normally talked to me no matter how much I rejected him or ignored him. It felt odd, and I looked up at his face again—
”…!
—Then, for the first time, my body froze when I saw him with a terrifying look. He looked truly angry.
”You—” he said.
”W-what…”
”Did you say it was a fluke?”
”Y- yes, so?”
I wondered if his voice sounded steady. I looked away from his angry face and swallowed without thinking.
”Look at me,” he said.
”…”
”Hey.”
”I don’t want to…”
He bent down so we would meet eyes and reached to grab my shoulder.
He grabbed hard. He held me so tight my body trembled against my own will.
”Do you want to say I lost by a fluke? You want to call that clear, beautiful technique—coming after that endless training and trial and error—a fluke?”
”…No.”
”Then what is it? Tell me what is different.”
I did not understand why Cliff was so heated. I only wanted to be strong and free from the voice.
If I reached something, if the voice’s purpose was met, then I would not have to hear the strange man’s voice all the time, be watched, continue the harsh training, or be forced to kill someone close to me.
I thought I could finally walk freely and talk to someone with my head held high.
”…Is it because I’m weak?”
”…No.”
”Then why? Why do you refuse people to that extent, even lying? You keep distance from your teacher and the senior students, don’t you?”
His words made my shoulders jump and my throat twitch. It was true—I kept distance from others except the words we used for training.
Silver Blood knew that I had lost my parents and that I slept and ate at the dojo. He cared about me in many ways, but I had never accepted his kindness.
”I… if I get close, I will die,” I said, forcing out the little courage I had. The words pushed into the line that barely did not break the (RTA) rule.
When I said that, the light left Cliff’s eyes. The angry color in his face drained away like a lie, and his expression vanished.
Even so, the hand he had on my shoulder tightened like a vice and kept giving me pain.
”Do you hate me that much that you would lie? Am I nothing to you? Am I outside of your sight?” he said.
”Th-that’s not—”
’Ah, this really is annoying, this damn brat,’ a voice muttered, rough and close.
I stopped myself from saying ‘not,’ my mouth closing.
’You know? If I were playing seriously, he’d be my favorite character. The boy who works hard to surpass the father he hates—so earnest it almost makes me want to screw him right there. He’s loyal, caring, loved by friends and brothers alike… But this is an RTA run, you know? (melancholy sigh)’
Every time I heard that disgusting voice, my stomach turned. It made me sick. Truly sick.
’Looks like you got a trauma trait when you killed your parent character,’ it continued, tone light, mocking. ‘Ah, the cursed luck of it! When a player character suffers something that intense, they gain insanity points. Rare, but not impossible.’
I fought the sickness and the shaking in my mouth, forcing myself to speak.
’When you have trauma, other characters come to you on their own,’ the voice went on cheerfully. ‘And when they help you heal that trauma, their route becomes locked in—big time loss! And since every love interest conveniently has counselor qualifications, it’s dangerous business. …Ah, I know! (sudden thought) What if you just killed him while you’re still a child? (dubious plan) A little accident, a stray shot, maybe? (delusion)’
I turned my face forward again, looked straight into Cliff’s eyes, and shaped my lips into a mocking smile.
”Cliff, you’re such an idiot.”
”…What’s that supposed to mean?”
What now? What words would make him hate me? My poor vocabulary scrambled for something sharp enough to cut.
Was there something, anything that could wound him? Maybe—
”You can spend your whole life chasing me, but you’ll never surpass that Holy Knight father you hate so much.”
”…What—how do you even know that…”
Ah, I’m sorry. Don’t make that face, don’t look like that. But no, the one who made him look that way doesn’t get to feel sorry.
”You always bring those tasteless sweets… what, do you like me or something? Sorry, I’m not interested.”
Wow, I can think of words that cruel? I didn’t know I could. I really am a horrible girl.
”You lost so pathetically and still keep following me. Don’t you have any pride?”
”…You…”
He finally spoke, after standing there and taking every one of my insults. I stiffened.
Even though I’d been the one hurting him, I was scared he might hit back. What a coward I am.
”What are you so afraid of?” he asked.
…Was I smiling right? Or did I look as twisted as I felt inside?
”What are you worrying about—”
’Now’s the time to kill him,’ the voice said coldly.
”—No!”
Cliff looked at me, confusion flashing in his eyes. The voice that told me so easily to kill was too terrifying. I shoved him away with all the strength I had.
”Whoa—?!”
”Ah—!”
I should’ve known what would happen. After all the training, all the power the voice had forced me to build—of course that push would send him flying. Of course he’d hit the wall and bleed from his head.
”Ow—what the hell?! Why’d you—?!”
”…Just go home…”
What kind of girl does this? Shouts, insults, hurts, then breaks down crying. To anyone watching, I must look insane.
’When affection’s high enough, they won’t suspect you. You can thrust all you like,’ the voice said, oily and amused.
”Shut up! Just go home!” I screamed.
”What’s your problem?! You hate me that much?! Do you hate my existence that bad?!”
Say it. Say it now! It doesn’t matter what happens after.
”—I HATE you, Cliff!! I HATE YOU!!”
He froze.
Why… why was I the one crying when he was the one hurt?
”I don’t even need your awful sweets!!”
Right there in front of him, I smashed the sweets he’d brought—the same ones I loved most. I crushed them with my fists, again and again, then poured the bucket of water over them, ruining everything.
”So go home!! Don’t ever come near me again!!”
My chest ached. It squeezed and burned until I doubled over, pressing my chest and shouting through it.
”…I’m going home,” he said at last.
”…Don’t ever come back.”
He stood, holding the bleeding cut on his forehead, and I begged in a shaking whisper.
’Oh? Whatever happened, looks like the event’s been skipped. Master Cliff’s heading home,’ the voice purred.
”…Ugh… ah… ngh…”
’Maybe I should volunteer to escort you home…?’
That sickening, constant voice echoed through me, watching me even now—
”…Ugh—uehh—”
And I, pitiful and weak, vomited.
Notes:
• –
• Cliff – Son of First-Class Knight Lilia. Practices Flame God Style. Obsessed with defeating strong opponents, especially Reina Alcott after a humiliating loss.
• Silver Blood – Martial arts master of the Suijin-ryu Dojo. Reluctant guardian to Reina Alcott, balancing duty with fear of her potential wickedness.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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